Herefordshire, December 11, 1941.
"Ben are you playing at war again?" Eliza asked, popping her head out of the window.
Her son and daughter, and the two boys who lived on the farm where they were staying looked up embarrassed. Ben and the younger of the two boys had Margaret and the older boy standing with their hands on their heads in a classic pose of surrender.
"Well Mama I'm just practicing. In case I have to go to war to fight the damn Germans!" Ben complained.
Eliza's eyes widened. "Benjamin Gracie don't let me hear another swear word come out of your mouth or you'll be sorry. And besides your seven years old, by the time your old enough to fight the war will be long over. I've told you that on a few occasions." She said.
Ben shrugged and then said, "Well can we at least play cowboys and Indians?" He asked.
"You can play anything you like- just not war. I've had it up to here with war." Eliza replied.
"Had it up to where Mama?" Margaret inquired.
Eliza laughed. "That's just a figure of speech sweetie." She explained.
"Mama they had Indians back home didn't they?" Ben asked.
"Yes Ben there were." Eliza replied. Sometimes Ben surprised her by saying something like that to remind her that he still thought of America as home despite having been in England for most of his life. However with Margaret having been born in England she thought differently.
"Are they playin' happily miss?" The farmer's wife asked as she came into the kitchen.
"They are now- after I stopped them playing war." Eliza replied.
"Well I suppose it's different for you havin' lived through all the bombing and all, but up here we're basically untouched by the war, except Marline Hamilton's fiancée, young Jack, being killed. Lovely young lad he was too. Breaks your heart don't it?" The farmer's wife said. "So my younguns like to play at it."
"That's all fair and well, but I just don't want to see my children playing it. You'd think there would be plenty of other violent games they can play." Eliza replied, dropping into a seat at the kitchen table where she had been sitting writing a letter to Edward before the sounds of the children's playing had distracted her and made her move over to the window.
"Aye, Aye." The farmer's wife replied. "Well I must be away to my milking. Ever since the man who worked for us joined up things have been mighty tough round here. That's why I jumped at the chance of you three coming here for a few weeks. Helps us with the money like."
"Yes, things have been tough for everyone." Eliza said. "I know a few people back in Liverpool who've lost their houses in the bombs. They've got to start all over again. I don't think I could do that."
"Aye it would be hard." The farmer's wife said as she left the kitchen.
Eliza could have sat in the nice sitting room provided for her and the children, but with the smell of bread baking, and the warmth of the oven, the kitchen was far nicer. The cottage was relatively small, but with many other women and children from the cities staying out in the country places were scare. And really it was pleasant enough.
Eliza continued with her letter:
'..and you should have been here to see Ben milk his first cow. The farmer showed him how to and he did it, and he was so proud. And now he spends a portion of his day every day watching the cows. I think he has visions of a pet cow back home. I've told him Liverpool is not the place for a cow, but of course he won't listen. As for Margaret; well at first she was scared of all the animals, but now she's getting better. One of the farm cats has recently had kittens and if we lose Margaret we know we can find her playing with the kittens.
The farmer and his family are nice enough, although real country folk. Early to bed, early to rise. Simple folk, with simple pleasures. To me this is completely refreshing from some of the snobs we've encountered through life. When I'm older I wouldn't mind retiring to the countryside with a small property where I could sit outside in the sunshine and fresh air and read or knit. Pipe dreams, I know.
Anyway darling I must close here as I am planning on walking into the small township to post this and get some supplies. I don't know how long it will take to reach you- perhaps we shall be home before it with this wartime post and all?
Much love always, Eliza."
*****
"You're staying with the Hamilton's right?" The lady in the general shop asked later that day, leaning on the counter ready for a nice chat.
"Yes we are, but only for a few weeks. I want to be back in Liverpool for Christmas with my husband." Eliza replied.
"You're not English though, are you?" The lady asked. "You sound American, but there's something else in your voice, another place..."
"I was born in Sweden." Eliza replied, surprised that the woman had picked it. After spending most of her life in America Eliza considered herself completely American.
"Aye that's it. Rough time you people are having isn't it? Got any relatives over there?" The lady asked.
"I don't know to be honest." Eliza admitted. "We went to America when I was six, and my parents both died aboard the Titanic."
"My sister's husband, Joseph, was the Titanic's fourth officer. They live in Hull. Terrible thing it was, wasn't it? Fair shattered Joe, he's never been the same since." The lady said with a shake of her head. "Small world we live in ain't it?"
"Very small." Eliza agreed. "I'm sorry to be rude, but I've got to get back to the farm. God only knows what mischief my children are up to with me not there to keep an eye on them."
"The Hamilton children are sensible enough. They'll keep an eye on your ones." The lady assured Eliza. "Which reminds me- you'll still be here on the 17th won't you?"
"Yes, we're returning to Liverpool on the 20th." Eliza replied. "My husband would have liked us out here longer but with Christmas and all..."
"Aye, children need both their parents during Christmas. Especially during these bleak times." The lady replied. "What I was going to say was the Barnies are passing through and putting on a show on the 17th. Your young ones would fair love it!"
"The Barnies?" Eliza repeated.
"Aye, they're tinkers most of them and they travel the country putting on shows in people's barns." The lady explained.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I've heard the term tinker before." Eliza said.
"Tinkers are gypsies." The lady explained. "Anyway the show is great, you're young ones will love it. No doubt the Hamilton children will be going."
"Oh, well I'll have to ask the children, but I'm sure they'll say yes. Thank you for letting me know." Eliza said, and then she left the shop and walked slowly back to the farm savoring the piece and quiet of the country. Where they'd lived in Philadelphia hadn't been the country, but their big estate had provided them with some quiet. As she walked she let herself hum a song, and smiled. Edward would be delighted at how much difference only a few days had already made. By the time she got back to Liverpool he'd hardly know her!
"Ben are you playing at war again?" Eliza asked, popping her head out of the window.
Her son and daughter, and the two boys who lived on the farm where they were staying looked up embarrassed. Ben and the younger of the two boys had Margaret and the older boy standing with their hands on their heads in a classic pose of surrender.
"Well Mama I'm just practicing. In case I have to go to war to fight the damn Germans!" Ben complained.
Eliza's eyes widened. "Benjamin Gracie don't let me hear another swear word come out of your mouth or you'll be sorry. And besides your seven years old, by the time your old enough to fight the war will be long over. I've told you that on a few occasions." She said.
Ben shrugged and then said, "Well can we at least play cowboys and Indians?" He asked.
"You can play anything you like- just not war. I've had it up to here with war." Eliza replied.
"Had it up to where Mama?" Margaret inquired.
Eliza laughed. "That's just a figure of speech sweetie." She explained.
"Mama they had Indians back home didn't they?" Ben asked.
"Yes Ben there were." Eliza replied. Sometimes Ben surprised her by saying something like that to remind her that he still thought of America as home despite having been in England for most of his life. However with Margaret having been born in England she thought differently.
"Are they playin' happily miss?" The farmer's wife asked as she came into the kitchen.
"They are now- after I stopped them playing war." Eliza replied.
"Well I suppose it's different for you havin' lived through all the bombing and all, but up here we're basically untouched by the war, except Marline Hamilton's fiancée, young Jack, being killed. Lovely young lad he was too. Breaks your heart don't it?" The farmer's wife said. "So my younguns like to play at it."
"That's all fair and well, but I just don't want to see my children playing it. You'd think there would be plenty of other violent games they can play." Eliza replied, dropping into a seat at the kitchen table where she had been sitting writing a letter to Edward before the sounds of the children's playing had distracted her and made her move over to the window.
"Aye, Aye." The farmer's wife replied. "Well I must be away to my milking. Ever since the man who worked for us joined up things have been mighty tough round here. That's why I jumped at the chance of you three coming here for a few weeks. Helps us with the money like."
"Yes, things have been tough for everyone." Eliza said. "I know a few people back in Liverpool who've lost their houses in the bombs. They've got to start all over again. I don't think I could do that."
"Aye it would be hard." The farmer's wife said as she left the kitchen.
Eliza could have sat in the nice sitting room provided for her and the children, but with the smell of bread baking, and the warmth of the oven, the kitchen was far nicer. The cottage was relatively small, but with many other women and children from the cities staying out in the country places were scare. And really it was pleasant enough.
Eliza continued with her letter:
'..and you should have been here to see Ben milk his first cow. The farmer showed him how to and he did it, and he was so proud. And now he spends a portion of his day every day watching the cows. I think he has visions of a pet cow back home. I've told him Liverpool is not the place for a cow, but of course he won't listen. As for Margaret; well at first she was scared of all the animals, but now she's getting better. One of the farm cats has recently had kittens and if we lose Margaret we know we can find her playing with the kittens.
The farmer and his family are nice enough, although real country folk. Early to bed, early to rise. Simple folk, with simple pleasures. To me this is completely refreshing from some of the snobs we've encountered through life. When I'm older I wouldn't mind retiring to the countryside with a small property where I could sit outside in the sunshine and fresh air and read or knit. Pipe dreams, I know.
Anyway darling I must close here as I am planning on walking into the small township to post this and get some supplies. I don't know how long it will take to reach you- perhaps we shall be home before it with this wartime post and all?
Much love always, Eliza."
*****
"You're staying with the Hamilton's right?" The lady in the general shop asked later that day, leaning on the counter ready for a nice chat.
"Yes we are, but only for a few weeks. I want to be back in Liverpool for Christmas with my husband." Eliza replied.
"You're not English though, are you?" The lady asked. "You sound American, but there's something else in your voice, another place..."
"I was born in Sweden." Eliza replied, surprised that the woman had picked it. After spending most of her life in America Eliza considered herself completely American.
"Aye that's it. Rough time you people are having isn't it? Got any relatives over there?" The lady asked.
"I don't know to be honest." Eliza admitted. "We went to America when I was six, and my parents both died aboard the Titanic."
"My sister's husband, Joseph, was the Titanic's fourth officer. They live in Hull. Terrible thing it was, wasn't it? Fair shattered Joe, he's never been the same since." The lady said with a shake of her head. "Small world we live in ain't it?"
"Very small." Eliza agreed. "I'm sorry to be rude, but I've got to get back to the farm. God only knows what mischief my children are up to with me not there to keep an eye on them."
"The Hamilton children are sensible enough. They'll keep an eye on your ones." The lady assured Eliza. "Which reminds me- you'll still be here on the 17th won't you?"
"Yes, we're returning to Liverpool on the 20th." Eliza replied. "My husband would have liked us out here longer but with Christmas and all..."
"Aye, children need both their parents during Christmas. Especially during these bleak times." The lady replied. "What I was going to say was the Barnies are passing through and putting on a show on the 17th. Your young ones would fair love it!"
"The Barnies?" Eliza repeated.
"Aye, they're tinkers most of them and they travel the country putting on shows in people's barns." The lady explained.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I've heard the term tinker before." Eliza said.
"Tinkers are gypsies." The lady explained. "Anyway the show is great, you're young ones will love it. No doubt the Hamilton children will be going."
"Oh, well I'll have to ask the children, but I'm sure they'll say yes. Thank you for letting me know." Eliza said, and then she left the shop and walked slowly back to the farm savoring the piece and quiet of the country. Where they'd lived in Philadelphia hadn't been the country, but their big estate had provided them with some quiet. As she walked she let herself hum a song, and smiled. Edward would be delighted at how much difference only a few days had already made. By the time she got back to Liverpool he'd hardly know her!